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Well, I finally did it. I got the chance to see Pete Seeger perform live. For years, he has been one of my heroes but I never had the opportunity to see him live. I don’t use that (almost outdated) term “hero” lightly and I am sure he would wonder at anyone thinking of him as a hero – but there are two reasons why I think of him that way:

First, his almost legendary status as a performer is well deserved. At age 90 he is still a commanding stage presence. When I saw him he appeared with his grandson, Tao Rodriguez-Seeger and Guy Davis (two excellent performers by themselves). The three of them put on a wonderful show with Tao and Guy sharing the stage and blending their musical styles with Pete’s. Pete’s voice isn’t as strong as it once was but for myself, I hope to be upright and taking nourishment at age 90. I can’t imagine performing for audiences as well.

To understand the second reason for his hero status one has to look back to the 1950’s. McCarthyism was rampant throughout the country but especially pervasive in the music and entertainment industry. The House Committee on Un-American Activities held their witch-hunt style trials and if one didn’t publicly renounce communism – or at the very least plead the Fifth Amendment, blacklisting was in the offing. Pete Seeger was the only performer to stand up to the committee and challenge their right to make such demands of anyone. His contention was that, in America, an individual’s opinions, whether religious, philosophical or political, do not make them less of an American. He was sighted for Contempt of Congress and endured repercussions to his career that extended well into the 1960’s.

To get a more complete picture of Pete Seeger, I recommend reading David Dunaway’s biography How Can I Keep From Singing: Pete Seeger.

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Fall in Connecticut

My good friend Gavin McGrath, who also maintains a wordpress blog (http://gavinmcgrath.wordpress.com) is a minister in London. About my age, he is a much more focused runner than I. He actually enters events called “Iron Man” competitions. These involve running, bicycle riding and swimming for long distances. Just the name scares me. Let’s just say that I have no desire to participate and leave it at that.

Several months ago he ran a 10K race through the streets of London. He ran to raise funds for a worthy charity. Afterward he wrote a piece about the event in which he waxed philosophical about running through the streets of that venerable city. It truly must be inspiring to be in a race whose course takes you past such buildings as Parliament, Buckingham Palace and St. Paul’s Cathedral. One of these years I would like to join him.

His writing did get me thinking about where I run. I live in western Connecticut – the Litchfield hills. These are the soft woodlands that form some of the foothills to the Appalachian Mountains. They are as inspiring as London – in a different way. 200 years ago, this area was almost all farm land. It was largely devoid of trees because the farmers cut them so that they could plant their crops. New England was a tough area to farm. There were too many rocks, too many trees and too many hills. When it was discovered that the Midwestern part of the country was very fertile and lacked many of these drawbacks, farming was largely abandoned in New England. Much of that which was farmland in the early 1800’s quickly reverted back to woodland – although now, crisscrossed with miles of stone walls. This is the quintessential “New England” area where I live.

Today was an absolutely pristine autumn day – about 60 degrees outside and not a cloud to be found. It is early October and the trees are turning color. Not at their “peak” yet, many are still green and most have not dropped their leaves. You couldn’t ask for a better day for a run. Inspired by Gavin’s writing, I took my camera and did my best to record some of the sights along the four-mile route that I frequently take. A few pictures speak better than my writing.

This small lake, just down the road, used to be a reservoir.
This small lake, just down the road, used to be a reservoir.
About a mile or so from our house, this is one of the prettiest barns around.
About a mile or so from our house, this is one of the prettiest barns around.

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A late fall harvest
A late fall harvest
A small roadside memorial to a car accident victim - an all too common sight along country roads.
A small roadside memorial to a car accident victim – an all too common sight along country roads.
The end of a run - our house is at the end of this road.
The end of a run – our house is at the end of this road.

So that’s a brief view of some of the sights along a route that I typically run. Beautiful in the fall – striking but somewhat more bleak in the winter.

JB’s

Thoughts on Running

I should start by saying that I am not much of a writer or a runner. OK – not a strong opening for a written piece about running. Let me clarify. I do run. More precisely, I jog. A couple times a year I will enter a 5K race and someday, I hope to get a time of under 30 minuets. Not everyone calls that running. It keeps me moving though. As for the writing part, suffice to say, it is harder than I thought it would be.

I started running about five years ago. Both my dad and my father-in-law spent much of their time during last several years of lives watching TV. They did this mostly because they were physically unable to do anything else. Both were active in their younger days but inactivity seems to be a habit that creeps up on you and I want to forestall that as long as possible.

When I started running, it was for very short distances that would often finish up with me walking home. Not a bad way to start. After a month or so, I could jog a couple of miles without wanting to throw up. That had been my goal and I was happy. Now I actually enjoy my time on the road. I generally do three or four miles when I go out but unfortunately, I seldom go out more than two or three times a week. I have been told that this limited training schedule is preventing me from improving my race times. I am sure it is, but I truly don’t care. I am 54 years old and I will never be a competitive runner. I would however love to be like that 91 year old gentleman that completed the last 5K I was in. Not that it matters, but he didn’t come in last.

I am a fair-weather runner. The winters in New England are just too cold for me to enjoy a “nice brisk run” – so I don’t stay as active as I should when the snow flies. I use a tread mill occasionally but not with the regularity that would keep me truly fit. I find walking on treadmills boring and running on treadmills just requires too much concentration (not to fall down!)

To be continued soon…